Page 60 of Dealing Dirty
The hearty scent of Guinness tickles my nose as I rush toward the Wolves’ hangout with a tray full of the disgusting dark beer.
“Jack, Jack, Jack!” the crowd shouts in front of the main bar. There’s a healthy mix of women in skirts and dresses that leave next to nothing to the imagination and big burly men who are hollering like groupies.
And then there’s Jack.
He looks sexy in his button-up shirt and vest, paired with fitted pants. He’s quick on his feet, dancing from one end of the bar to the other, flawlessly catching the bottles Micah and Derrick throw up to him, juggling before his audience.
“Thanks, Jules,” Cooper says when I place their beers down on the high top.
“You’re very welcome. Is there anything else I can get you guys?”
Hazel pops up from behind the pool table and places the square of blue chalk onto the edge. “Wanna play?”
I eye her curiously. “I wouldn’t want to kick your ass in front of your crew.”
Cooper smirks when she sticks her tongue out.
The ominous presence of Kenneth’s six-foot-tall frame towers over my right shoulder. He’s not a wolf I want to cross. The man’s got wrecking balls for fists and a torso that’s thick as an oak.
The shadow he casts in the dim light of the hanging lamp has me gulping. “I-I’m good. Thank you, though.”
Hazel and Cooper may have grown on me, but this big guy still gives me the willies.
I flatten the round serving tray against my body and scamper around him.
Hazel’s snicker penetrates the racket filling the bar, seeming to follow me all the way to my next table.
Cassidy doubles over with laughter as Jack tosses his bottles down to the guys and shakes his ass to the old rock song that usually rounds out his routine. Derrick sets the bottles on the counter behind him as Micah grabs the spray nozzle and showers him and anyone nearby in various liquids.
A slow building ache travels over the top of my shoulder’s before creeping its way into the middle of my heart. Somehow, I’ve been adopted into this crazy family. They’ve snuck their way between my anxieties and fears, enveloping me in their stronghold, and somewhere along the way, I stopped fighting it.
The crowd disperses when the music shifts, and Jack gracefully springs off the bartop.
A bucket full of soapy water sloshes on top of the counter, and like a creep, I study the ropes of muscle pulling and flexing beneath Derrick’s forearm and bicep as he cleans up Micah’s mess.
The slow tug of his cheek brings a dimple to his face. He knows I’m watching, and he winks at me to prove it.
Pivoting on my heel, I tread back to my tables with a blush spreading up my neck.
Friday evenings are usually the busiest, and it doesn’t stop until well past one o’clock in the morning. Sweat kisses my brow and my arms are limp noodles by the time the first rush of customers leave.
“Where’s Cassidy?” I ask Jack as he slides me a glass full of ice water while I’m entering new orders into the computer.
Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Derrick lately either. The temptation of finding and dragging him toward the locker room is unbearable, but there are plenty of full tables waiting to be served.
The skull on Jack’s hand stares at me from where it rests on the bar.
“She’s all bent out of shape over a lost shipment we had scheduled for Tuesday. She’s currently hunched over our backlog in my office. But don’t worry, I know just the thing to calm those raging hormones.” He rubs his hands together, then reaches under the bar, fishing around an empty spot in the back.
“Chocolate?” I ask when he reveals a full assortment of candy bars. I’ve never seen Jack so childlike, but his emergency stash is downright adorable.
His tongue snakes out as he sifts through the box and snags one.
“Go get her, tiger,” I say over the rim of my glass.
With a wink, Jack saunters off, and I quickly finish typing in each individual order on the bright blue computer screen.
Across the bar, Hazel makes a motion like she’s just shot herself in the head. I bite my cheek to keep from giggling at her tongue hanging out and head rolling back.
